


life is a whole spectrum of songs

by congratsyouvegrownasoul



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I do love these exercises, Smut, UST, rated M for sexual content and overuse of semicolons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/congratsyouvegrownasoul/pseuds/congratsyouvegrownasoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>some are happy, some sad, and all are part of the same story<br/>ten prompts, one sentence each</p>
            </blockquote>





	life is a whole spectrum of songs

_Fluff_

 

Her soft, sweet mouth brushes over his face like a blessing, kissing both the smooth skin and the ruined, and finally alighting on his lips.

* * *

 

_Angst  
_

  


Sandor swings his shovel like a pikestaff, slamming the blade of it into the ground, and the red earth splits like broken flesh; _what would you think of me now_ , _little bird,_ he wonders, _a murderer become a monk?_

* * *

_Unresolved Sexual Tension_

_  
_

Their little cave is far too cold, even with the fire, his old enemy pared down into an ally; Sansa snuggles up next to him, and he can feel the slim contours of her body even through her bulky furs.

* * *

_AU (in which Sandor has no brothers)  
_

  


Ser Sandor is not particularly handsome, but he is this tournament’s valiant champion, and the broad grin that stretches across his face makes her smile too; when he lifts the tip of his lance in salute to her, she blushes like the girl she is and dips her head, giggling.

* * *

_AU (modern)_

  


Jeyne thinks Sansa’s sort-of-boyfriend looks like the Hulk, while Arya begs to differ, saying that he’s more of a mad axe murderer type; Sansa shrugs her shoulders, laughing giddily at her friends’ idiocy and the rush of something new.

* * *

_Hurt/Comfort_

  


The sheer boiling anger she once saw in his grey eyes has faded now, though the rawness remains always; she has seen laughter often recently, and sometimes something that looked almost like peace.

* * *

_First Time_

  


It is the first time he has seen her dressed so fine since Blackwater, and the gold threads woven into her skirt don’t shine half so bright as the gold in her hair; she is radiant, and he is captivated.

* * *

 

  _Friendship_

  


Sansa tucks her legs around his waist, her skirts rumpled up around her knees, and throws her arms around his chest from behind; Sandor straightens up, taking care to keep his balance, and strides forward, smiling to himself when she squeals and ducks to keep her head from cracking on the chandelier.

* * *

_Smut_

  


Sandor loves her, all of her, and tonight all of her is his, from the wonder of her hair tangled in his hands to her delicate feet pushing against his legs; most of all, he loves the way she throws back her head and shouts when he enters her, loud and unruly and _happy._

* * *

 

_Death  
_

  


“Would you give it to me now…of your own free will?” he says, with blood trickling steadily from the corner of his mouth and tears gleaming in his eyes; understanding, she takes his head into her lap, and haltingly begins to sing, her voice as gentle and feather-soft as her hands.

 


End file.
